Love Bite
by RubberDuckies
Summary: When things go bump in the night, Kakashi's there to bump back. Whether it be vampires, werewolves, or demons, as long as he can kill, no problem. Things get complicated though, when he falls in love with one of the monsters...kakaobito more YAOI nc-17
1. Chapter 1

**Here's a better summary, because seriously, they don't give you enough friggin' room to write a decent summary...T_T: **When things go bump in the night, Kakashi's there to bump back. Whether it be vampires, werewolves, or demons, it doesn't matter. As long as a couple of silver bullets can take it down, he can handle it. It's his job after all.

Things get a bit more complicated, though, when Kakashi makes the biggest mistake of his life--falling in love with the enemy.

While Kakashi tries to deal with his conflicting emotions, a vampiric murderer is claiming victims all over Konoha. Kakashi would have been content to force himself to pretend that Obito never existed, but when the man becomes involved in the murder investigation, there's no escaping him.

The police are out of clues and need Kakashi's input and, more importantly, his freedom from the badge. If they're going to have any chance of catching the killer, they're going to need Kakashi's connections with all creatures less--and sometimes more--than human.

Can Kakashi sort out his feels in time to catch the killer before he strikes again?

**I've really gotta stop starting all these new stories...but I've been dying to write this one for a while, so...ENJOY!**

**p.s. **J**ust soz ya'll know, this is an AU fic obviously that's set in Laurell K. Hamilton's Anita Blake world--sort of...I mean, I've changed it a bit, but if you've read her books and notice any similarities...that's why:)**

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_Love Bite I_**  
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How could this happen to me? How could I, Hatake Kakashi, a vampire hunter, have fucked up so utterly? How had I missed all the signs I'd drilled into my head over the years hunting the hunter?

How could I allow myself to be so vulnerable with the enemy?

The club was packed. I sat at the bar, a drink in hand, watching the writhing mass of people move and gyrate to the beat of the music. On both sides of me, couples leaned in close to each other, whispering and giggling about Kami-sama only knows what—probably some dirty shit they were going to do together later. Lights flashed on and off, rapidly dousing the room in light, just before plunging it into complete darkness for a split second again. I was half surprised the damned lights hadn't caused anyone to have a seizure yet.

I hated places like those.

There were always too many people; the music was way too loud—not to mention _bad_—the drinks were watered-down, and more expensive than they were in a regular bar; the combination of the blinking lights and the horrible music gave me a headache; and the people who came up to me to buy me a drink were always such arrogant assholes that I just wanted to kick their asses so they'd know just how much of an asshole they really were.

However, the clubs also happened to be the best place to get laid.

I didn't go looking for ass very often, but I was still a man, and I had needs. Jerking-off would usually do it for me, but about once a month, I treated myself to a real fuck. Kami-sama knows I deserved it.

The only problem was finding a willing one-night-stand. It wasn't that I couldn't find a willing ass; it was just that most people would either expect some kind of a relationship, or…they'd go blab to the media about their night with Hatake Kakashi, the infamous vampire hunter.

Everyone wanted their five minutes of fame, so the real trick was finding someone who would be satisfied with one night and wouldn't kiss and tell.

That was really all I asked. I didn't care about looks, as long as they were clean, and I didn't care about how good they were in bed. As long as they'd bend over and let me do as I pleased, I was happy.

Finding someone who fit that criteria was harder than it sounds. Sometimes I just gave up and hired a prostitute, but that was only when I was desperate.

As it was, there was a certain patron in the club that had caught my eye. He was on the opposite side of the room, dancing half-heartedly with a tall, dark-haired man that made him look even shorter than he was. I'd seen the short man come in, loudly, with a group of friends. Their pack had split up as soon as they were in the doors like magnets with identical poles.

The man that'd caught my eye was petite in every sense of the word, except, as it seemed, personality-wise. I'd watched him as he slowly made his way across the room, through the thick crowd. He'd stop every few seconds to talk to someone or dance with someone else, spreading smiles throughout the room to everyone he showed a little attention to. He was a goofy man, and seemed to be having a good time—until he got to the man he was currently dancing with, and Kakashi could see why.

The tall man apparently thought it was okay to grope his smaller partner like they were close lovers who did that kind of thing all the time. He also seemed to think it was okay to prevent the poor man from moving on to someone else. He was holding the slight man tightly against himself, his hands on his ass, and whispering secret things in his ear while he shamelessly ground himself against the near-stranger.

That man was the number one thing I hated about clubs. Those dickheads who think they're the fucking shit and are somehow doing you a favor by taking an interest in you and scaring away any other potential playmate that you might _actually_ be interested in.

I was a little interested in seeing what the short man would do with the guy. As animated as he'd been when he first cone in, I'd expected him to go off on the guy and start screaming, or at least get some of his newfound friends that were all around him to help him out, but he didn't. He was just holding onto the man's shoulders, putting up with it.

This somewhat annoyed me. I'd just been about to get up and make my way to the short man when Mr. Grabby-Hands got to him first. Now I'd been waiting for almost half an hour for a chance to talk to my prey, but hadn't gotten a chance. After all this waiting, there was no way I was going to let that asshole completely ruin my night. I was going to get that man to come home with me, or I was going to at least destroy the tall man's night since he'd seen fit to waste my time.

I downed the rest of my drink and started pushing my way through the crowd. As I got closer, the short man turned his head towards me. His almost ethereal face was screwed up in a grimace of disgust. Whatever his captor was whispering in his ear clearly wasn't the man trying to get to know his partner.

When my prey caught sight of me coming towards them, I gasped just a tiny bit. His eyes were so…captivating. I'm not even sure why. They weren't some rare, vibrant color like sky blue or grass green; they just held so much depth. They almost sparkled with their very own personality.

It was only when my prey's captor turned them around in their "dance" that I realized I'd just stopped in my tracks to stare at the man.

I shook myself and moved forward to clamp a hand down on my target's cancerous tumor. The man turned himself half around to give me an annoyed look and a silent, "fuck-off," sneer.

I smiled sweetly at him and said, "I think you've hogged him enough, asshole. He clearly isn't enjoying you all but raping him in public, so why don't you just go and fuck-off, huh, buddy?"

The man blinked at me, astonished.

I took his momentary shocked paralysis to peel him off my beautiful prey and step between them. When the man recovered, he tried to step around me, glaring at me, and grab his newly freed captive, but I just stepped in his way again.

"Hey, look, pal, I had him first. You missed your chance with him, shithead. Now back off," the man growled at me.

I just smirked at him and stepped out of the way. "Well, if he wants you, then I guess it's not my place to interfere, but I don't think that he's interested, jag-off."

The man just sneered at me and stepped forward to take the smaller man's arm, but before he could, my prey moved next to me and grasped my arm, half hiding himself behind me.

I smiled triumphantly at the enemy and lifted the arm the man was holding to wrap it around his small frame.

The man glared at me and stepped up to me, getting as close as he could without touching me, trying to intimidate me. He growled something at me, but I couldn't understand him over the music and roar of people around us.

I didn't even blink while the man did his best to scare me off with his primitive threats. I'd faced scarier things than a mere disgruntled human male in danger of loosing a potential mate. He may have been had almost a hundred pounds on me, but sheer brute strength wasn't everything—I could take him.

Not to mention I also had a gun under my leather jacket.

I didn't need it though, because when I didn't back down, the man lost interest and stormed away in a short-lived rage that was forgotten when he bumped into another okay-looking man, whom he latched onto like he had my quarry.

"Thank you," was said directly into my ear, the beautiful man's lips brushing my skin as he said it. Even though he was so close, it was still hard to hear him over the overall noise of the room.

I just smiled at him and pulled him a little closer, asking with my eyes if he wanted to dance with me.

He grinned at me and pushed himself flush against me, wrapping his arms around my neck, and laughing at me when the shock of his forwardness showed on my face.

Unlike his former captive, I kept my hands on his hips while we danced. Granted, they were rather low on his hips, but I was still far from groping his ass. He was an avid dancer now that he was freed from his purgatory. I was getting a little worn out trying to keep up with him. He may have been petite to an extreme, but he definitely wasn't fragile…

"What's your name?" I all but screamed into his ear. I swore the music just kept getting louder as the night wore on…

He said something back, lifting himself up with his hands on my shoulders to yell in my ear, but I couldn't hear him over the God-forsaken music. Before letting himself fall back down, he bit down on my earlobe and pulled it down between his teeth as he sank down. He gave me a quick smirk before darting back to my neck to nibble at the soft skin there and leave kisses along my jaw. His fingers slid through my hair, gently pulling my head back to give him more room to maul my neck.

I moved my hands to his ass.

People started staring at us as we got more and more into each other. We were openly making out in the middle of the dance floor, not caring who we bumped into or stepped on accidentally.

Out of nowhere, Obito jumped up slightly and wrapped his legs around me, forcing me to take his whole weight unexpectedly and I almost toppled us to the floor. But I was able to right myself again when I knocked into another man behind me, giving me the momentum to gain my balance. I ignored the man cursing at me for smashing into him.

There were much better things to focus my attention on—like the fact that I was hard as a rock and Obito was grinding his own tented pants on me while he tried to find the meaning of life in my mouth.

"Get a fucking room!" half the room screamed at us, tired of our shenanigans.

Obito pulled away enough to look at me and we laughed at each other. He unhooked his legs from behind me and slid down my body to stand on his own feet. He grabbed my wrist and started pulling me along behind him as he threaded his way expertly through the pressing crowd.

I dutifully followed him, eager to get out of the club and away from the music that was threatening to burst my eardrums with its crushing bass line.

Obito yanked me through the place until we finally escaped the overwhelming room and spilled outside into the late-night streets of downtown Konoha. There really weren't any less people outside than there were inside, but, as a rule, outside is bigger than inside, so it was less oppressive.

Once outside, I took the lead. I wound my way around people, up and down streets, and finally to the small private parking lot behind my favorite bar whose owner let me park there, because I was such a great customer. In other words, he let me park there, because I was famous and gave him free publicity and brought him customers. I didn't mind his exploitation of my reputation though, because, not only did I have great—free—parking downtown, but my drinks were always half off—if not free altogether—and he always saved me the dark corner booth that I could hide in so no one bothered me while I was trying to drink peacefully.

But I digress.

When we got to my car—a cheap, black sedan, because I'm pretty good at destroying my cars—Obito pushed me against its trunk and gave me another searing kiss, burying his tongue as deep into my mouth as he could get without gagging either of us.

"Your place or mine?" I gasped out when we were finally forced to part.

"Yours," he said, stepping back and turning to round the car and climb into the front passenger's seat.

I smiled and shook my head at his obvious impatience.

I slid into the driver's seat beside him, started the car, and pulled out of the parking lot to head towards my house. It was about fifteen minutes away.

Obito watched me drive like I was a fish in an aquarium and he was a cat. I was right there, but he couldn't have me, because all that glass and water was in the way. Only instead of glass and water being in his way, it was my concentration on driving so we didn't crash into a ditch on the side of the freeway and get blow up and die a horrible death. I was just out of reach.

I glanced to the side at him sitting there, a knee pulled up in the seat so he could turn and watch me. The seatbelt restricted him somewhat, but he'd pulled out enough slack to sit comfortably in a position that would probably kill him if I did, in fact, crash the car.

"So what's your name?" I asked, suddenly realizing I was taking the man to my home to fuck him into next week, but I didn't even know his first name. "I didn't catch it at the club. The music…"I added, gesturing at my ear.

"Obito," he answered, tilting his head to the side to regard me at another angle.

"I'm—"

"Hatake Kakashi," he cut me off.

I glanced at him again, longer this time. "You know who I am?"

"Is that odd? You're famous. I've seen you on tv and on magazine covers."

"You mean tabloid covers," I corrected. Newspapers and tabloids were the only printed media that had my face plastered all over them. Plenty of magazines had _asked_ me to be on their covers, but that would require going in for photo shoots and a bunch of other troublesome things that would only make it harder for me to blend in with the rest of the world.

"Same difference," Obito said, shrugging.

"You're not gonna go blabbing to the world that you spent the night with me, are you?" I asked as casually as possible. I didn't want to offend him by implying he was a media whore like that, but I still needed to know.

"Of course not. I'm not that desperate for attention," he said indifferently. He reached out with his left hand to thread his fingers through my hair while he continued to watch me.

"Thanks," I said, relieved. "You seem to attract more attention than you want as it is anyway," I added with an amused smile, my eyes still glued to the road.

He chuckled quietly, "That doesn't happen often, but every once in a while…"

"Why didn't you just tell him to go fuck himself?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"He was having a hard night," he said, his fingers gently massaging my scalp and petting my hair. "His boyfriend had just broken up with him. He needed a little pick-me-up."

"And you believed that? That's gotta be the most clichéd guilt-trip, pick-up story I've ever heard," I said skeptically.

"He wasn't lying," he said simply.

"How do you know?"

Obito smiled and leaned closer to me over the armrest and emergency brake separating our seats. He nuzzled my neck and licked the back of my ear before answering me, "I could see it in his eyes."

"Uh-huh…" I said, still skeptical…and slightly distracted by his mouth on my neck, licking and sucking at it again. "But was that really a good enough reason to let him do that to you. You looked like you were barely putting up with it."

He hummed in my ear, "I was waiting for you to save me."

"What?"I asked, frowning.

"You were watching me all night. I knew you would come eventually. Although…I was starting to wonder if I was wrong—it took you so long to come." He bit down on my earlobe, almost like he was punishing me for taking my time.

"I was waiting for one of you to move on," I said, turning my head slightly so I could press a kiss to his messy, black hair.

He made a noncommittal grunt and reached a hand across our separator to cup the front of my pants and massage my previously waning erection back to life. He tugged at the collar of my jacket, and I let go of the steering wheel with my right hand to let him pull the leather off my arm. He lifted my arm up, out of his way, and I rested it on his back. He pulled my shirt up to my armpit and closed his mouth over my nipple, massaging it with his tongue and nipping at it with his teeth, all while he continued to rub the front of my pants.

I bit my bottom lip to keep myself from moaning.

As Obito kept up with his explorations, it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on driving. It didn't help when he stopped rubbing my jeans to pull at the button and zipper. Under pressure from my cock, my pants happily relented to Obito, slipping open easily for him. He reached into my underwear and pulled my dick out, abandoning my nipple for better things. His mouth closed over my head and I couldn't help the moan that slipped out.

The car swerved a little and I had to grip the steering wheel hard, with both hands, to keep the car going straight.

His mouth moved down my dick, taking me all in with an ease of the practiced. The maddening heat of his mouth surrounding my cock made my vision blur slightly. The taillights of the car in front of me were the only thing keeping me on the road. And then he pulled back, sucking my length all the way, and I swerved again.

"Fuck…" I cursed under my breath, desperately trying to gain control of myself again. And I almost did, but then Obito started humming before he went down again. "Ah! Fuck!" I growled, instinctively letting go of the wheel with my right hand again and gripping Obito's hair. I managed not to swerve, but I pressed harder on the gas and was forced to change lanes or hit the car with the taillights that were keeping me going straight.

There were no cars in front of me to guide me anymore. Not good.

Obito pulled up again and went back down again without pause, starting a regular rhythm. He tore more moans from my throat as I struggled to keep us on the road. Maybe it would have been safer to make him stop, but I couldn't bring myself to do that, nor did I think he even would if I told him to.

I almost missed the exit off the freeway. I had to cross three lanes to get to it. Luckily there weren't many people on that stretch of freeway at that time of night, so I got off without any problems other than going a little too far to the right and hitting those ridges in the road that make a loud noise in the car when you run over them.

I breathed a little easier when I came to a red light and I could stop for a moment. Also, I wasn't going to be going sixty-five miles an hour anymore on the metropolitan and residential streets. I could finally enjoy my blow job a little without having to worry about killing us both.

But, because he's inherently evil like that, Obito pulled away from my cock and kissed his way back up my stomach. I wanted to strangle the man for abandoning his post just when I would be able to enjoy it, but I couldn't be angry any longer when he came up to kiss me, his mouth tasting like my cum.

Plus, he went back to sucking me when the light turned green and I had to watch the road again.

I lost track of the streets we turn down as I ran on autopilot through familiar territory. I was actually a little surprised when we pulled into my driveway.

I turned the car off and Obito came up from my cock again. This time, when he kissed me, I grabbed his head and attacked him with my tongue in vengeance for the hard time he'd been giving me.

He unbuckled his seatbelt and I pulled him across the console into my lap. He quite willingly slipped his legs around me and ran his hands all over my exposed upper body.

I could have happily fucked him right there in the car, but then he accidentally sat down on the steering wheel and honked the horn at three a.m. in my quiet, little neighborhood full of old people with dogs and parents with elementary school kids.

As much as I wanted to, if my neighbors caught me fucking like that in my car where their kids could see me—should they be awake at that hour—they'd definitely find a way to get me thrown out of the neighborhood. Most of them already didn't like me—a fucking vampire hunter—being in their neighborhood, but they put up with me, because I didn't cause trouble. But if I did anything—like fuck a stranger in my car in the middle of the night and wake them up with my horn honking—they'd find a way to get rid of me. I wasn't sure how, but it's amazing what a bunch of concerned parents and disgruntled senior citizens can do if they put their minds to it.

"Inside," I grunted when I got a chance between tonsil-cleaning kisses. I pulled the handle of my car door and all but fell out of the car with Obito still attached to me. Somehow I got to my feet and pulled Obito with me around the car and to my front door.

Now I had to somehow get my house key out and unlock the door while shoving my tongue down Obito's throat at the same time.

Obito seemed to sense my predicament and moved from my mouth to my neck, mauling me while I frantically searched my several dozen keys for the right one, thinking to myself, _Why the fuck do I have so many fucking, god-damned KEYS?!_

Eventually I found the right one and all that was left was getting it in the lock and opening the door, which was harder than it sounds, but I got it, and the door swung in with my keys still in the lock.

I broke away from Obito to step up into my house and rip my jacket the rest of the way off and throw it somewhere into the darkness of my home.

"Come here," I said to Obito, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him through the doorway. Once inside, I slammed the door shut and smashed Obito up against it, my tongue shoving its way inside his mouth again, pulling his shirt up at the same time. It came off him while I pulled him away from the door and towards the stairs.

We tripped up the stairs together, our mouths glued together and clothes flying off. By the time we finally got to my bedroom we were both naked as the day we were born.

I shoved him on the bed roughly and attacked his neck rather savagely. Obito's skin was a perfect, pale dream. It was smooth, scar-less and soft as a baby's bottom. It was like he took a bath of skin moisturizer every day. I don't know how else his skin could have been so smooth.

It tasted salty sweet, too. I licked my way down his chest and stomach, momentarily stopping to rub my face into happy his trail, and then moving down to slide my tongue along his impressive length.

Obito whimpered when I took him in my mouth. His hips thrust up, but I shoved him back down forcefully, holding him down while I bobbed over his cock. His cries of pleasure sent shivers down my spine and I suddenly couldn't take it anymore.

I pulled away from his cock and leaned over to my bedside table to rummage through the drawer for the new tube of lube I'd bought for that night. I flipped it open and squirted some of it onto my fingers quickly; impatient with the whole process of stretching my partner before I even got started with it.

"Hurry," Obito begged breathlessly, watching me with heavily-lidded eyes.

That was not helping.

I groaned and rubbed my slickened fingers over his hole, lifting his legs up for better access. I slipped twos finger inside at once and thrust them in and out more roughly than I usually would have been, but I was on edge, and he wasn't complaining. I scissor-ed my fingers, stretching him as much as I could before pressing the third finger inside.

I'd barely thrust the three fingers twice before Obito was pushing against them, moaning that he was ready. That was the fastest stretch I'd ever done. This Obito just got better and better by the minute…

I pulled my fingers out and squirted more lube than was necessary on my dick to slick myself up. I was about to slam into Obito without further ado, but I had to pause for a moment when I stood poised above the man. Sprawled out as he was with his knees practically at his chest and his arms lying limp around his head, he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. His damp, spiky black hair stuck to his forehead; his eyes gave me a hazy, lustful, _needy_, look that pulled a whimper from my throat. I couldn't believe I was going to be given the privilege of fucking the masterpiece of a man.

Obito groaned and arched up off the bed impatiently, "Come on, teme, give it to me!" he ordered, half-growling.

"Mm…" was all I said, reluctantly tearing my eyes away from his face, and instead letting them roam over my bounty. I slid my hands up his thighs and back down to hold his hips steady. I pressed the head of my dick against his hole and he moaned, pushing down as much as he could. The small movement drove me just a little insane and I slammed into him, burying myself balls-deep, tearing a cry from Obito.

His insides were just as perfect as the rest of him—tight, hot, and velvety-smooth. His body pulsed around my cock and I finally lost it. I was already pounding into him before I even realized I'd started moving.

Obito writhed beneath me, calling my name over and over, chanting it like a mantra. He clung to the bunched up sheets beneath the pillow his head was resting on. He pulled at them helplessly like they were the only thing keeping him from falling off the edge.

His body moved so easily with mine; it was like we'd done this countless time before and he just knew how I'd move. Even if I changed the angle or pace, it was like he knew I was going to do it before even I did. Obito was definitely experienced.

The mixture of his movements, his sounds, and most of all the feel of his insides were quickly shoving me towards the cliff's edge. One last hard push would be my undoing. I didn't know how close Obito was, but I hoped he wasn't far off. I didn't want to cum before him. I really needed to have sex more often so I'd have better endurance…

Obito's ankles locked behind my back and pushed me harder into him. I groaned at the action. I was losing myself in this man that I'd just met, and later it would bother me. I never let myself become so vulnerable with anyone, not ever, _especially_ not with a practical stranger. Although I'd regret it later, at the moment, there was nothing I wanted more in the world than to truly let myself go and do whatever my body wanted to do to his.

I wrapped my hand around his bobbing cock and squeezed.

Apparently that was all it took for him. He came in my hand, coating my hand and both our stomachs. His eyes opened and locked on me.

Staring into his eyes—his beautiful, otherworldly eyes—I came, _hard_, inside him, moaning like a woman. Even though my eyelids fluttered, I held his gaze, or maybe he held mine. I don't know, but the indescribable look he was giving me was doing things to me that I didn't understand, but liked nonetheless. It felt almost like his gaze was boring into my soul, seeing everything that was me. Normally that would freak me out, but there was something about Obito…it didn't bother me at all. In fact, I liked it, and didn't want the alien feeling to go away.

Of course, at the time, I didn't know what he was—what he was doing.

My exhausted body finally forced me to look away as I collapsed on top of him. We panted together, covered in each other's cum and sweat, not saying anything. I was content to just fall asleep.

"Do you mind if I stay the night?" Obito asked quietly while I was teetering on the edge of slumber.

Normally I didn't let my lovers stay overnight. I had a strict fuck-and-get-the-hell-out policy, but for some odd reason, I found myself saying, "Sure, you can stay as long as you like, but I have to get up in the morning, and I'll be gone all day." What was it about this man that had me doing things contrary to my normalcy?

"That's okay," he said simply.

We lapsed into silence.

I couldn't get over my spur-of-the-moment decision to allow him to stay. What had caused it? I did seem overly fascinated with the man, but I was sure it was on a purely sexual level. Maybe I just wanted another taste of him before he disappeared from my life forever…He was quite the fantastic lay.

That's what I eventually wrote it off as, finally succumbing to the soft lull of Obito's rhythmic breathing and falling into a restful sleep.

I didn't know that I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.

**First time I've written a fic in first person...whaddya think, mina-san? Y/N?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, I finished that fast...;P I'm really excited about this fic!\o/ I hope you guys are too!**

_Love Bite II_

I'd had plans for the next day to check out a few places I suspected to be the daytime resting places of some of my vampire prey. I had to put that on hold though, when my cursed phone tore me from my sweet, dreamless slumber a mere two hours after I'd finally fallen asleep.

I groaned when the first screeching ring ripped through the silence of the room. Obito stirred and lifted his head from my chest to look around in confusion.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, scrabbling for the wretched piece of technology vibrating and screaming on my bedside, next to the still open bottle of lube.

When I finally got a hold of the damned thing, I turned it over to glance at the front screen and see who the hell was calling me at 4:45 in the fucking morning. I knew who it was though, even before I saw Sarutobi's name written in glowing letters. Who else would have any reason to call at such an ungodly hour?

"Sarutobi, there'd better be bodies on the ground or there very soon will be," I growled unhappily into the phone, bypassing any sort of greeting—pleasant or otherwise. I'd had about five hours too little of sleep for such niceties.

"Just one, actually," the older man replied, "A nurse."

I sighed loudly into the phone, wanting the Sergeant to know just how displeased I was with him. Sarutobi Hiruzen was the one who always called me in for any investigations Konoha's All Nether-worldly Bastards Unit—the ANBU—needed help with. I'm pretty sure that's not what ANBU officially stands for, but that's what all the members of the Unit fondly joke it means, and I don't care enough to find out its real representation.

I was an unofficial member of the Unit assigned to protecting Konoha from all the less than human threats out there. I'd worked with them for six years as a supernatural consultant. And as much as I liked helping catch criminals and solving mysteries—not to mention having connections with the police—I still hated getting phone calls to come look at gruesome crime scenes at all hours of the night.

"Just one? Do you really need me to come down there?" I asked, hoping against hope that Sarutobi would see the folly of his ways and leave me to rest in peace. That wouldn't happen, of course, because by the time Sarutobi called, the shit had pretty much clogged the toilet, and he needed me to break out the plunger.

"If she was the first one to turn up dead like this…no, but she's the eighth one, and we've got no leads."

I sighed again, more resigned than before, and rolled over to grab one the pads of post-it notes I kept by all the phones in my house for just such a call. "Where?" I asked, and wrote down the directions he listed off on the neon green piece of paper.

"How long?" Sarutobi asked.

"Mmm…half-hour drive, at least."

"Hurry up. Forensics and everyone is done with the body and we all want to go home."

"Yeah, yeah…" I muttered into the phone, but he'd already hung up. Sarutobi wasn't much for goodbyes, especially when he was impatient.

I pushed the covers off me and sat up on the edge of the bed, trying to force my mind and body to wake up. I needed a shower; that would help.

Obito crawled to me from the other side of the bed to hug me from behind, his forehead resting on my shoulder. "Where you going?" he asked.

"Gotta go look at a crime scene."

"But it's so early. Can't it wait?"

"Haven't you heard?" I asked, just a bit slap happy, "Crime never sleeps."

* * *

I pulled into the hospital parking lot forty minutes later and parked in a space as close to the colorful blinking lights and bright yellow caution tape as possible, which wasn't very close at all considering all the Press and police cars. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon when I slipped out of my car.

Rather than go through the whole ordeal of trying to explain to one of the uniform cops that I was allowed on the scene, despite the fact that I had no written permission from anyone, OR any sort of badge to flash, and then have to wait another twenty minutes for Sarutobi to get his wrinkly ass over to us to let me in…I paid one of the spectators—a woman who claimed to be my biggest fan—to distract the guard barring my way so I could just sneak in and find Sarutobi myself.

In order to distract the cop, my fan simply walked up to him, and before the man could tell her to step back, she grabbed his head and shoved her tongue down his throat. Needless to say, with all the Press and other people around, the scandalous act caught not only the Uniform's attention, but everyone else's too. I had to hand it to the woman; she'd done an ever better job that I'd anticipated.

With everyone's attention on the developing spectacle, I easily slipped under the caution tape and through most of the other Uniforms unnoticed. By the time anyone realized I was there, I'd already caught sight of Sarutobi with his back to me.

"Excuse me, sir; you don't have permission to be back here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," I was told by a young uniform cop with a Beatles haircut and eyebrows so bushy it was amazing he didn't have a uni-brow. He was very polite, but his strong hold on my left arm left no room for argument.

Not that that was about to stop me.

"Actually, yes, I do," I said, looking behind him at Sarutobi, who was talking to some other plain clothes Detective. "Sarutobi!" I called to him, not fighting the Uniform holding me in place, but still acting like he didn't even exist.

Sarutobi turned around at the sound of my voice. He glanced at me and then at the officer holding me captive. "Lee, let him go," he ordered, and the boy promptly obeyed without a fuss.

"I'm sorry, sir! I was unaware of your clearance!" he said to me before saluting me stiffly and marching off.

I drifted over to Sarutobi. "He ex-military?" I asked. The salute the boy had given me was much too formal for the police.

"Yeah, but they kicked him out after he hurt his leg. It's fine now, but apparently the risk of re-injury makes him unfit to join again."

I grunted my understanding and shrugged it off.

"To be honest, I'm kinda glad he can't go back to the army. He does the work of six men all by himself. It's impressive, but frightening at the same time. I don't know where he finds the energy…"

"He's young."

Sarutobi nodded in agreement and silently began leading me towards the body without another word.

Although the caution tape spanned out into the street of the parking lot, the actual crime scene was in a small courtyard created by all the hospital buildings. The courtyard was apparently used for storing dumpsters. I could smell them reeking long before I actually caught sight of them.

The body was covered up by a large black tarp. It was situated between two amazingly clean-looking, green dumpsters with the words, "RECYCLEABLES ONLY," written across the fronts.

"How long has she been dead?" I asked absently as I scanned the surrounding vicinity to see if I could spot anything the cops hadn't.

Sarutobi pulled out his trusty little notebook that he kept somewhere on his person at all times and flipped through its sheets. "Forensics believes the time of death to be somewhere between seven and nine o' clock," he read from one of the wrinkled pages.

I hummed in response, not really caring all that much. I finished my search of the premises and settled my gaze on the tarp, waiting for Sarutobi to finish barking orders at someone to come over and remove the thing.

Several moments later, two Officers came over to lift the tarp and take it somewhere to be washed and stored; they'd remove the body when I was done with it, so there was no need to re-cover it.

The body underneath was rather clean, especially compared to most of the others I'd seen helping the ANBU. There was very little blood other than the drying drops oozing from the two puncture wounds on the right side of the girl's neck.

She was a pretty little thing. Pink hair, shapely hips, not much up top, but then I was betting her aquamarine eyes would have made up for that…if she was still alive and they weren't turning milky white like she was blind.

I knelt by her side and checked the bite mark. It was neat, no bruising or torn flesh. She hadn't struggled. She must have known the vampire and trusted him, or possibly her.

She was wearing navy blue scrubs and a light, unzipped, black jacket. I used a pencil, borrowed from Sarutobi, to lift the jacket and peek underneath. She had a name tag. "Haruno Sakura," it said next to a bad driver's license-type photo of the girl smiling for all she was worth, as if that'd make the picture better somehow. Smiling in driver's license pictures usually made them worse, but hers wasn't all too bad. I was right about her eyes, too.

"Haruno Sakura," I said mostly to myself. The name sounded familiar.

"She was an RN in the cardiac unit."

I looked up from the body. Jiraiya was standing next to Sarutobi with his hands in his pockets, looking more grim than usual. Normally, with such a pretty woman, he'd be making jokes about accidentally fucking her to death, or something equally stupid, to lighten the mood. But since he wasn't, I was guessing he might have known the girl.

"You knew her?" I asked.

He nodded. "Tsunade worked with her. Called her, her apprentice. Come over for dinner sometimes…parties…" He gave me a weak smile that quickly disappeared. He ran his hand through his whitening hair, "I don't know how I'm going to tell her…"

That's why the name was familiar. I must have heard Tsunade talking about her.

I turned back to the body. "Get her drunk first." Tsunade would be much less violent when she was drunk. She could very well kill Jiraiya in her grief if he wasn't careful. It was rare for Tsunade to get attached to anyone, especially someone she worked with, so Jiraiya was right to be afraid to tell his wife about Sakura's death. She wouldn't take it well. Even drunk.

"I wonder if she'd just get angry at me for getting her drunk before telling her. Maybe I should just tell her and then run away? Leave her alone for a while."

I shrugged—my attention back on the corpse. I put my hands over her breasts, feeling for a bra. That was something Jiraiya would usually joke about, but he said nothing. She was wearing one, and it was firmly in place. I lifted the waistband of her scrubs and found her wearing underwear as well. The vampire hadn't tried to rape her, further proving she'd known the parasite and trusted it.

"What is it, Hatake?" Sarutobi prompted.

"She knew him," I said simply, still poking around the body, but pretty sure I'd seen all there was to see.

"And?"

"And…I don't understand why he killed her. She didn't struggle. Why didn't he just feed and leave?"

"He did," Sarutobi said.

I sent him a glare, "You know what I mean."

"What's even weirder is he didn't have sex with her," Jiraiya put in, seriously.

He was right. Most vampires usually like to play with their food. "Play" can mean any number of things from torturing their victim to making love to them. Usually for such a willing victim, they'd probably have sex with them, or at least make it pleasurable to them in some way. Or if they were planning on killing her from the start, she'd be at least cut up a little. But this girl was completely untouched.

There'd been other vampire victims that had died without being tortured, but those were only when they were jumped by several vampires and drained of all their blood. And even those people were usually raped.

But Sakura only had one bite on her, which obviously meant only one vampire. And a single vampire didn't need so much blood to survive that they would kill a human in one sitting. I hadn't even known a single vampire could drink that much blood at once.

And if you had a willing donor that would feed you whenever you wanted, what was the point in killing her? That only made your life harder. Because not only would you have to find a new donor, but you'd also have to deal with the whole being wanted for murder thing. And for a willing victim? It just seemed too much of a hassle. It would have made sense to kill her if she'd struggled and would have gone to the cops if he'd left her alive, but she wouldn't have. It just didn't make sense.

Then again, vampires are cruel and heartless, so even if it made no sense to me to kill her, maybe it would to them. Some vampires kill their food just for the hell of it, even if they're willing. But that's rare…

I stood up and moved away from the body. "You said there were seven others like this?" I said to no one in particular.

Jiraiya nodded. "All women. No signs of struggle."

"And the only thing that seems to connect them is how they were killed," Sarutobi added.

"Why'd you wait until the seventh one to call me?" I asked.

"He killed the first seven all at once, but it took us a couple days to find them all. We hadn't even thought they were related to each other until this one." Sarutobi frowned, "Give me something, Hatake."

I just shook my head. There was nothing to tell him that he didn't already know. "I'll ask around and let you know if I find anything," I said.

He nodded, disappointed.

* * *

I went to the station after that. Since I was going to be part of the case now, I wanted to know more about it, which meant I was going to have to read the piles and boxes of reports on the seven prior murders, as well as look at all the high-definition pictures of dead bodies.

I walked in the front door and the secretary behind the big desk taking up half the room looked up at me. She smiled, genuinely happy to see me, but then again, Mizuki was happy to see pretty much anyone. She was eerily happy, ALL THE TIME. It freaked me out sometimes. But she was nice and didn't give me a hard time about having permission and other such nonsense to look at files and records.

"Kakashi-kun!" she said, clapping her hands together and sitting up straighter in her chair. Her face lit up; her smile showing off her perfect, white teeth; and her short, dark hair bringing out how incredibly green her eyes were. I'd only ever seen eyes that green on a cat. For a while I'd been sure she was some sort of feline lycanthrope, but the police—especially the ANBU—had to take all kinds of medical tests to work there, including a blood test to determine if you were human or not. As it was, I was guess she either wore color contacts, or else she was just a freak of nature who had cat eyes.

Since she was a freak of nature even despite the cat eyes, I guess they weren't all that odd.

"What can I do for you today, Kakashi-kun?" she asked, leaning forward in her chair like I was about to tell her some sort of secret. She always got way too excited about everything. It was like she'd just taken a shot of pure caffeine. Surely even Mizuki worked harder than that Lee kid…

"I just need to see the files for the seven recent vampire murders," I said calmly, smiling at the woman. Her cheerfulness was contagious sometimes.

"Sure thing, Kakashi-kun! Would you like to take them home, or look at them here?"

"Better take 'em home. I'm sure there's going to be a lot to go through…"

"Yes indeedy, it is! Seven murders! That's a lot of paperwork! A LOT!" she said, happily pulling out and handing me the form I'd have to fill out to take the files home before bouncing away to find them.

Really…that woman liked this job way too much. But as annoying as Mizuki could be, you couldn't help but like her. She was just too…I don't even know. She was just likeable. Maybe it was some sort of pheromone that she let off? Yeah…that had to be it…

She came back with a box in her hands and set the thing on the desk before going back into the records room for more.

I groaned inwardly. Reading all those files was probably going to take days.

Three boxes later, Mizuki finally sat back down in her chair to look over the form I'd filled out. She circled some things, checked some boxes, and signed a few lines before smashing a big red stamp on the top that said, "APPROVED." She slid the form into one of her many perfectly organized paper trays and turned back to me, her smile still firmly in place. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Kakashi-kun?"

"Ah, no, that's all for today, Mizuki-chan. Thank you."

Her smile widened, "Of course! No problem, Kakashi-kun! I'm always happy to help! It's my job!"

"Actually, come to think of it, I do have a question for you," I said, succumbing to her cheerfulness and needing to act on it.

"Ask away, Kakashi-kun! I'm here to help!"

"You smile an awful lot, Mizuki-chan. Does it ever make your face hurt?"I asked with a grin.

She burst out laughing, her laughter sounding like a wind chime tinkling in a breeze. "Of course not, Kakashi-kun! Did you know it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile? As much as you frown, Kakashi-kun, I should think your face hurts!"

That wasn't actually true, but I laughed anyway. It actually takes more muscles to smile—twelve to be precise. Frowning only takes eleven. Unless it's a fake smile, of course, then it only takes two.

I carried the boxes out to my car two at a time and thanked Mizuki again before leaving.

My stomach growled loudly when I finally got back into the car, so I stopped to get some fast food. I couldn't believe it was already noon. I'd been at the crime scene longer than I'd thought.

Later, I searched through my glove compartment to find the piece of paper I'd written down all the address of the possible daytime resting places on. There were fifteen different places, and they were spread out all over the city. I figured I'd better check them out before the sun went down.

* * *

To my great irritation, the first fourteen places were empty. I'd spent five hours driving all over town to check these places out and the damned vampires didn't even have the decency to be there so I could kill them.

God, I hated vampires.

When I arrived at the last place, it looked much less promising than all the others had been combined, which just put me in a fouler mood. Unlike the other places—abandoned warehouses and dilapidated apartment buildings—this place was an actual inhabited apartment complex with other people living in the specific building. Granted, it was an old, rundown apartment complex in probably the worst part of town imaginable, but still…it was odd for a renegade vampire to live so close to people and no one know about it.

For the fifteenth time that day, I checked my trusty Smith & Wesson to make sure the magazine had all sixteen rounds in it. I probably wouldn't need it, and even if I did, I probably wouldn't need all sixteen rounds, but just in case. If there was ever a time I needed more than sixteen bullets, I was probably screwed.

I pet my gun affectionately before sliding it into its holster at my hip. My gun saved my life on a regular basis, so I treated it like my baby. I bathed it on a regularly, cleaning it with only the best oils; I slept with it at night; I fed it bullets whenever it was hungry; oftentimes I had to clean up after it; and sometimes I even had to take it to the doctor if it started firing funny.

I had other guns, but my semi-automatic was the elder sibling of the bunch, and by far my favorite.

Sighing with annoyance, I entered the apartment building. Apartment 4B would be on the fourth floor, obviously, and there was no elevator, so I got to take the stairs.  
I tried not to notice the mice—and was that a sewer rat?—scrambling by along the walls, or the terrible water stains blossoming across the ceiling and walls, and especially not the gagging scent of marijuana, tobacco, and God only knows what other burning drugs there were all mixed together.

I finally got the fourth floor and stared at the knob I'd have to turn to get onto the actual floor. It was covered in some sort of…_serum_…and I was regretting throwing away those latex gloves I'd had at the crime scene.

Maybe it wasn't so odd that the vampire was hiding here. This place was an utter shithole. The only people that could possibly live here were junkies and crack whores—no one who would notice an undead monster feeding on them.

Sighing, I pulled my t-shirt out of my pants and grabbed the handle with it, turning it open. I stalked down the hallway, impatient to get out of there. The sun would be setting soon, and if there were vampires, I wanted them to be dead before they woke up and could fight back.

The door, thankfully, wasn't locked, so I pushed my way in rather easily. I searched the living room and bedroom of the apartment quickly, wanting out of there as soon as possible. The whole rest of the apartment was clear, except for the bathroom. I'd saved it for last since I was sure it'd be the dirtiest room of all.

When I saw the rough-looking vampire lounging in the empty tub, I wasn't sure if I was glad I'd found my quarry, or pissed off that I was going to have to stay in the reeking apartment longer. I gave the sleeping vampire my best death glare as if that was going to curb my annoyance.

I shook my head to clear away all the gruesome ways I felt like killing the vampire for putting me through all this shit. I had a job to do, and the sooner I got it done the better. The sun would set soon.

I reached for my gun.

As soon as my hand touched its cool steel, the vampire's eyes flicked open.

Fuck.

My gun was only half-drawn when the thing slammed into me, sending us both flying backwards. Unfortunately for me, I was on the bottom and suffered all the damage from smashing into the bathroom doorjamb.

The vampire had his hands on my throat and was squeezing for all he was worth. He would rip my whole throat out if I didn't kill him soon.

I was a little dazed though, from hitting the wall. I wasn't sure if I still had my gun in my hand or not. I was confused and disoriented.

The thing snarled in my face, spittle dripping from his extended fangs.

My head cleared.

The gun was still in my hand. I pulled it up, aimed it at his chest, and fired.

I must have missed his heart, because the vampire screamed and stumbled backwards instead of just dying. It didn't matter though; I had a clear shot now.

As it scrabbled at its chest, I aimed the gun, cupped in two hands, at his head and squeezed off two bullets, successfully taking out most of its head and spewing bits of it blood, brain, and thicker things all over the tiny room.

It crumpled to the ground and went still.

I struggled to my feet, leaning most of my weight on the filthy sink. I shuffled over to the corpse, kicked it onto its back and shot it twice more in the heart, just to be sure.  
"Dammit…" I whispered to myself, going to my knees, not caring if the blood pouring from the body soaked into my jeans and stained them.

My back was killing me. I was sure I'd broken a couple bones, and there would definitely be extensive bruising. I probably had a concussion too; my head was swimming, aching slightly under a creeping numbness.

I leaned against the toilet to my right and pulled out my phone. I suppose the damn thing was useful sometimes. I held the three button down and the phone speed dialed the police station.

Mizuki answered, "Hello, Konoha Police Station, how may I be of service today?"

"Mizuki, it's Kakashi," I panted out. I was going to pass out any second.

"Is something wrong, Kakashi-kun? You sound funny," she said, concern lacing through her sunny voice.

"I got Bateman," that was the vampire's name, "He woke up early though."

"Oh my goodness! Are you alright, Kakashi-kun?!" she screeched.

I held the phone away from my ear for a moment while Mizuki freaked out, screaming into the phone. The sound of her voice was making my headache worse. Finally she calmed down enough for me to get a word in.

I managed to give the address to the apartment building and ask her to send an ambulance before I passed out in the vampire's cooling blood.

* * *

I woke up again on a stretcher outside the building. There was an IV hooked up to my right wrist, an ice pack on my head, and a pair of handcuffs holding me to the stretcher. The cuffs weren't really necessary, but they were standard procedure when dealing with a murderer. I had a license to hunt and kill vampires with court orders of execution, but whoever these cops were, they apparently didn't know that.

I groaned. Why hadn't Mizuki sent the ANBU?

The blue and red lights flashed all around me. People were gathered around outside a perimeter of yellow caution tape, and cops were once again milling about in a crime scene around me. There were always way too cops people at crime scenes, especially when there were bodies on the ground.

I tried to sit up on the stretcher, but my back screamed at me to stay the hell put, so I listened; sitting up wasn't worth the pain.

"Hatake-san, glad to see you awake," a plain's clothes cop with a bushy, porno mustache said to me.

I just grunted at him, my earlier irritation coming back as my body remembered how to feel pain again after being unconscious.

"Would you like to tell me what happened?" he asked politely.

I glared at him. "How about you tell me who the fuck you are first?" Cursing and being demanding of cops is not usually a good idea when trying to deal with them, especially in my delicate position, but I was in no mood for all this pleasant attitude bullshit. I would have rather he'd been an asshole. At least then I could be an asshole to him and not feel so bad about it later.

His smile waned a bit before brightening again with an apologetic look accompanying it. "My apologies. I'm Detective Yamamoto. I'm in charge of this investigation."

"Why aren't the ANBU here? That's a vampire up there."

The man's eye twitched slightly, "The ANBU couldn't be bothered to come, because the case wasn't important enough to warrant their attention," he said disapprovingly.

I rolled my eyes. "It's not. That vampire up there is Derek Bateman. He was wanted for rape and murder. I have a court order for him somewhere in my car…" _somewhere in the glove box of doom_… It's always a bitch to find anything in that damned contraption. It's a miracle I found that list of addresses before. I should really clean that thing out.

I say that, but I never will.

"There's no need for any of you to be here." Seriously, I'd just asked Mizuki to send an ambulance. What's with this whole police squad and forensics team?

"I'll be the judge of that, sir," Yamamoto informed me.

What an ass. Thank God…

"Look, I don't care if you don't believe me, and I don't care if you want to be here all night investigating the damned _crime scene._ Investigate the hell out of it; I don't give a shit, but I want to go home." I lifted up my handcuffed wrist, "So un-fucking-do these. I'm not sitting here all night while you waste time and tax-payers money."

Yamamoto's face collapsed as he dropped his good cop act. "I'm afraid I can't do that, Hatake-san. You're not going anywhere until I'm sure this was a lawful killing."

"I _told _you I had a court order," I growled.

"Let me see it then."

"I _can't_, because you've got me handcuffed to a fucking stretcher!"

"You don't have it on you? Aren't you supposed to keep it on you?"

"Like I told you five seconds ago, it's in my car."

"Convenient," he said.

I turned away from the man to keep myself from punching him in the face.

"Sir, forensics is finished with the scene, sir," a familiar voice said loudly to the asshole detective.

"Good. Why don't you stay here and continue questioning Hatake-san, Lee?"

"Yes, sir!"

The shitty detective walked away, leaving me with Lee. That was probably a good thing. Lee knew me—sort of, and I was less likely to punch him in the face.

"Hatake-san, we meet again," Lee said, forcing me to shake his hand. He had a strong, overbearing grip, rattling my whole body as he shook my hand.

"Indeed," I said. "Can you un-cuff me?" I asked hopefully.

"No, sir, sorry, sir. Detective Yamamoto-sama has strict orders to keep you cuffed until he says otherwise."

I sighed. Of course he did. "Do you know where my phone is then?" I asked, realizing I was without phone and gun.

"Yes, sir. It's right here," Lee said, bending over to pick the little black thing up from the back of the EMS truck. He handed it to me.

"Thank you," I said almost as an afterthought as I dialed Sarutobi's number, noting the time before dialing—half past six. I hadn't been out long, and the sun would set in about an hour. I wasn't expecting any vampire attacks, but I always pay attention to such things. It's just habit after all these years of hunting the vermin.

"What is it, Hatake? You got something?" he answered grumpily.

"Actually, I'm handcuffed to a stretcher, and Detective Yamamoto is being an ass and thinks I'm a murderer. Think you can do something about that?"

"How the fu—never mind. I'll see what I can do." He hung up.

"Lee, where's my gun? I want it back." I asked the boy when my phone call was finished.

"I'm not sure, sir, but it's part of the evidence, so you won't get it back until the investigation is over anyway, sir."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me…This investigation is bullshit! I want my fucking gun back!" I said, my irritation turning to anger.

"I'm sorry, sir. There's nothing I can do."

Lee proceeded to ask me all the basic questions, "What happened?" "Why'd you kill him?" Blah, blah, blah…I answered as vaguely as possible, waiting for whatever Sarutobi was going to do to happen.

Fifteen minutes later, Detective Yamamoto came back over to Lee and me in a huff, scowling at me like I'd just had an affair with his wife. He un-cuffed my wrist, growling, "I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, Hatake-san. Sergeant Sarutobi informed me of your relationship with the Force and of your job description. This won't happen again."

I couldn't help but smirk at the man as I rubbed my wrist. It was good to have friends in high places. Maybe Sergeant wasn't that high, but it was higher than Detective, which was all that mattered in that situation.

"I _will _be needing that courter order though," he added, reluctantly handing me my gun.

"No problem, Detective," I said, grinding my teeth together as I forced myself to ignore my body's protesting and get up from the stretcher. "Lee, come with me."

"Yes, sir!"

I walked away from the Detective, Lee at my side, and slowly made my way through the crime scene to my car, almost collapsing when I had to bend over a little to get under the caution tape. Lee told me the EMS guys said there weren't any broken bones, but there were some sprained ones, and the bruises themselves were bad enough.

It took me almost ten minutes to find the damned court order. I handed the thing to Lee after signing the attached affidavit that said I'd executed the man. Lee took it with a salute and marched away, probably to give it to his superior.

I sat behind the wheel of my car for a few minutes. Today had been nothing less than shitty. And it didn't help that I'd had almost no sleep the night before.

The night before…

I wondered if Obito was still at my house. Surely it was bad form to stick around at a near stranger's house that long…Then again, in my book, spending the night at your one-night-stand's place was bad form to begin with.

Oddly enough, I found myself hoping he was still there though. I wanted to see him again—those queer eyes of his especially. It wasn't even that I just wanted to fuck him again. I was in no mood to fuck, and my body was in no condition either, for that matter. I just wanted to talk to him, get to know him. Something about him attracted me to him.

If he was still there, maybe I'd make him dinner?

The idea of having a meal with the man sounded nice, but I quickly tossed it away. What the fuck was I thinking?

"You don't date your one-night-stands, Kakashi. You don't date _anyone_," I told myself, resting my head against the steering wheel.

Getting close to people meant attachments—_weaknesses_. I couldn't afford those in my field. Vampires could be vindictive bastards. They wouldn't hesitate to kill someone I cared about just to get at me. That's why I didn't go on dates or make friends. I'd made the mistake of allowing myself the luxury of a boyfriend once, and that didn't end well, especially for him.

I sighed to myself and started the car, pulling out of the parking lot to head home.

Logically, I wanted Obito to not be there. I shouldn't ever see him again. He was too alluring. But in reality, I was seriously hoping he'd be there, that'd I get to talk to him one last time, even if it was only for a minute. I found myself missing the sound of his voice, the feel of his smooth, pale skin. I wanted to caress it again…

My mind wandered, reliving the night before after I'd met him. I wished I'd been a little more gentle with him--that I'd taken my time memorizing his body...

I scowled at the road in front of me when I realized what I was doing. What the fuck was wrong with me? Since when do I think such tender thoughts about anyone? This kind of thinking would only make it harder when I told him we couldn't ever see each other again.  
_  
God, I hope he isn't there…_


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter was really hard to write...though I couldn't tell you why^^;**

I sat in my car in my driveway for ten solid minutes when I finally arrived. The very idea of moving was making my back flare with pain warningly. Forcing myself to sit up straight the whole drive home had been bad enough, but my muscles had eventually gotten used to the position. Now, though, I had to move again, and I wasn't looking forward to it.

Too bad sleeping in my car would probably make it hurt worse tomorrow…

Groaning, I pushed my door open as far as it would go so it wouldn't come back, trying to close, and crash into me while I was attempting to peel myself from the vehicle. It was times like these that I wished I had a big car—an SUV or a truck. That way I could have just slipped down from the seat rather than having to pull myself up into a standing position. And as often as I got hurt…it would probably be worth the spike in weekly gas prices…

I don't know how long it took me to get out of the car, but the pain made it feel like a lifetime. It'd been a while since I'd been injured this badly. Walking to my front door wasn't so bad, but I was already dreading the stairs I'd have to climb up to my bedroom. Maybe I should just sleep on the couch? No…dammit…that would be just as bad as trying to sleep in my car…

Once the front door was open, I took a deep breath before taking that first step into the foyer. My back was screaming at me, "_Stop fucking moving, you dumb fuck! Do you WANT to shatter us?!_"

"Just up the stairs," I whispered to myself; that was where the bed was—where I could collapse and sleep off this terrible pain.

I paused in the foyer, the door swinging shut behind me. The house was quiet. Did that mean Obito wasn't here? Or maybe he was just asleep somewhere? No, it wasn't nearly late enough for him to be asleep. He must have left.

I breathed a sigh of relief even as my heart panged slightly.

Stepping up to the bottom of the stairs, I looked all thirteen of them over—seven straight, and six more to the left— while I tried to prepare myself for the upcoming onslaught of misery. All I could think was, "_Why do I live in a house with stairs? It really isn't logical when I get beat up this often. I need an SUV and a ranch-style house…maybe somewhere out in the country where I'd have less neighbors to worry about getting caught in the cross-fire should vampires decide to attack my home. Yes…the dogs would like that…_"

Speaking of the dogs, where the hell were they? They usually slept and lived outside, but it'd been awfully quiet lately. I hoped they hadn't gotten into someone's trash and gotten animal control called on them…That would be troublesome.

I allowed myself another five minutes to think about the dogs, inwardly denying the fact that I only thought so much about them because I was putting off climbing the damned stairs. But when I'd exhausted the topic in my head, there really wasn't anything left to do but start climbing.

"I'm not getting out of bed for a week after this," I promised myself as I lifted my right foot to begin my ascent.

The top of the stairs had me wheezing with pain, but I still felt accomplished. Maybe today hadn't been so shitty after all. I'd had sex, gotten my target, come home alive, and even managed to conquer the staircase. Yes, today had been good. Either that or my standards for a good day had dropped considerably when I'd all but broken my back…

I shuffled down the hall to the right to my bedroom, already taking my shirt off and deciding to bypass a shower in favor of bed—_now_. When I pushed the door open, however, I had to stop in my tracks and stare for a moment. There was a small figure tangled up in the sheets on my bed, cuddling a pillow, dead asleep.

"He's still here?" I breathed, my heart beating faster as elation and something resembling fear warred with each other in my head. I watched the sleeping form for a few minutes while I was still in shock, confused about what I should do. Should I wake him up, or just crawl into bed with him? And if I woke him up, what should I do then? I couldn't have sex with my back fucked-up as it was, and it would be a cold day in hell when I walked back down those stairs with my back still messed up, so we wouldn't be doing anything outside the bedroom either.

But the real question was: _why the fuck was he still here_?

I moved into the room as quietly as I could. I'd decided waking him up would be a bad idea. I didn't know what to say to him, so the longer he was asleep, the longer I had to come up with something.

As I got closer to him and the bed, I noticed there was something off, but I couldn't figure out what it was. I stood at the right edge of the bed and frowned down at my lover. What was it about him passed out on my bed that was making me uneasy?

_He's still in the same position as he was when I left this morning, so what is it?_

And then it hit me. He was in the same position, _and he wasn't breathing_.

All of the possibilities as to why this was were running through my head as my pulse suddenly sounded like thunder crashing in my ears. I was trying to calm myself, tell myself that there were a thousand possibilities—that he couldn't possibly be a vampire. I would have noticed, right? But when I started to think about it…He was so friendly with everyone in the club; his eyes had captured me so easily; he'd known who I was, and that I wouldn't want him telling people about us; he'd seemed especially pleased to suck at my neck; when we'd gotten to my house, he hadn't come inside the house until I'd pulled him in; and then he'd wanted to stay the night because he didn't have time to find somewhere to hide from the daytime before the sun rose.

"Shit," I whispered, taking a step back and feeling suddenly nauseous. I'd slept with a _vampire_.

But wait, I'd had my tongue all over his mouth, and I hadn't felt any fangs. There should have been fangs. The old ones can smile without showing fang, but that didn't mean they weren't there. And all that other stuff could have just been a coincidence…right? Oh, God, I hoped so.

There was only one way to find out for sure.

I pulled my gun out and forced my weary limbs to aim at his head as I inched closer. I pressed the gun barrel to his temple when my knees were halted by the edge of the bed. I had to bend over a little, but any pain my body was feeling was drowned out by my wild emotions running around in my head, screaming at each other in a panicked frenzy.

I reached out with my left hand to lift his arm. If it was stiff and didn't move, he was just a regular corpse, but if it was loose like a sleeping person…he was a vampire. I hesitated with my hand wrapped around his wrist. I had to take a deep breath before trying to lift his arm.

It came up easily, just like he was asleep instead of dead—except his skin was cold and seemed to suck the warmth from my hand.

I dropped his arm and pressed my gun harder into his head with both hands, breathing hard. All I could think was, "_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I slept with a vampire! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…_" How could this possibly have happened? How could I have not noticed he was a mother-fucking vampire?! I was a vampire hunter! I'm supposed to be the expert on this kind of thing!

And what was I supposed to do now?

Should I kill him before he wakes up and tell the police he attacked me? That wouldn't work for so many different reasons no matter how much I wanted it to. He was in my house, which meant I would have had to have invited him in—why would I invite my attacker into my own home? There were no signs of struggle in the room, and he was in my bed, covered in my semen too. It wouldn't be hard for the ANBU to figure out what really happened.

Plus, just thinking about killing Obito left me feeling conflicted. My previously confusing feelings for the man were now fighting against my insatiable hate for vampires. I wanted to kill him, but…I just couldn't. So what was I supposed to do now?

Before I could decide, Obito started to stir, his eyebrows and fingers twitching.

I felt the sun set like a warm blanket being ripped off me in a cold room. The loss of the sun's safety sent a shiver down my spine, just as it did every night.

Obito groaned quietly as he awoke from his "slumber." He stretched his back and yawned before he noticed my gun still pressed against his head. He frowned slightly and opened his eyes. He tried to move to get a better look at me, but I shoved the gun harder and he froze.

There was a long silence as we both tried to figure out what to do. Obito recovered first, relaxing in the bed. "You didn't know?" he asked, closing his eyes.

I didn't want to admit it. The fact that I, the infamous vampire hunter who was supposed an expert on the undead, hadn't been able to tell the difference between a vampire and human was a pretty big blow to my reputation. Not to mention I'd had sex with him AND fallen asleep with him.

Fuck, I couldn't believe I'd let my guard down like that with a vampire. _Asleep_. I'd be a-fucking-sleep. I'd been completely defenseless and at his mercy. He could have done anything to me.

"I thought you knew," he said, smiling now. "But I suppose this makes more sense. It was pretty hard to believe you'd want to sleep with your enemy."

I paused before saying, "You hide it well."

His smile widened, "I don't usually bother, but I figured you'd appreciate it."

I didn't answer.

"Are you going to kill me?" he asked casually, like he didn't care.

"I haven't decided yet," I said, trying to sound just as nonchalant, but not quite managing.

He rolled over, pushing my gun away, and forcing me to move back to aim again. The satisfied smirk on his face gave away that he knew I wouldn't kill him. How could I? Besides the fact that I was conflicted, he hadn't done anything to deserve it. He and I had had plenty of eye-contact; he could have fucked with my mind if he'd wanted to, but he hadn't. Even when I was asleep and defenseless he hadn't done anything to hurt me; he hadn't even tried to bite me.

Most young vampires were afraid I'd kill them just because they were undead, but the experienced ones knew—knew I only killed when it was legal, or in self-defense.

Obito slowly stood, eyes never leaving my face, although I wasn't looking at his.

Rule number one when dealing with vampires: _never_ look them in the eye. There were all kinds of fucked up things vampires could do to your mind if you gave them the chance. The more powerful ones could capture your mind without eye-contact, but it always made it easier for them when there was.

He moved closer, taking small, non-threatening steps towards me. I was finding a little hard to feel all that threatened when he was naked too…

I had no choice but to back up. I couldn't shoot him, and I didn't think telling him to back off was going to have any effect. Any kind of threat would be meaningless so long as he knew I wouldn't kill him.

My back hit the wall, and even though I hadn't hit it hard, I still hissed with pain as if someone had just stabbed me. I'd forgotten about my injuries until then. My adrenaline rush had masked it, shoved it into the back of my mind, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the pain was back in full force.

"You're hurt…" Obito said, sounding concerned. "What happened?" He stepped closer, reaching out to touch me, but I wasn't having that.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I growled—his hand inches away from my arm. My gun was pressed into his chest, but he was ignoring it.

He froze at my words, but didn't move away. "You're hurt; let me help you," he pleaded.

"You want to help me?" I asked bitterly, feeling like he was mocking me, "Then get the fuck out of my house. I never want to see your face again."

"Kakashi…what about last night?"

"Last night didn't happen. If I ever hear about it again, I will hunt you down and fill you with silver—the law be damned." I would do it too, and I think he knew it.

"I understand…so I'm just a mistake, huh?" he said forlornly, dropping his hand to his side.

"The biggest one I've ever made," I admitted, glaring coldly at his chest. It tightened visibly, and oddly enough…I winced at the thought that I'd just hurt him. A tiny part of me wanted to explain, to give excuses for why we could never be together, why no one could ever know, so he'd understand and not be hurt. But I said nothing, quelling the feeling. Things were better this way. If I hurt him, he'd stay away.

"Why are you doing this?" he whispered, sounding close to tears. His petite frame was trembling ever-so-slightly, and it confused me. Not just because I'd never seen or even _heard_ of a vampire crying, but because I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that he was crying because of _me_. "Last night…you were happy; you liked being with me; I could feel it. You aren't normally like that with people, even your lovers…I was different…"

"Yes, you're different. You're a fucking vampire," I said, trying not to think about how he knew how I acted with my other one-night-stands. There was only one way, but the thought that he'd been in my head was making part of me just a tiny bit hysterical.

"What if I wasn't?" he asked, "If I was human, would you have asked me to stay? Would you have wanted to be with me? Would you have loved me?"

My frown deepened. "I don't date," I said simply, avoiding his questions—I didn't want to think about my answers…

"Kakashi, I would never hurt you," Obito promised, reaching out to touch me again, my face this time.

I flinched away, "Get out," I barked at him testily. My arms were starting to ache from holding the gun up for so long. Just what I needed…sore arms to go with my broken back…

"But Kashi—"

"Fucking get out of my house!" I yelled, surprising even myself with the forcefulness of my voice. I didn't like that he'd given me a nickname. I liked even less that he thought we were close enough to merit one…

Obito jumped slightly at my tone, taking a step back like I'd bit him. He stood in front of me silently for a few minutes, just staring at me. Then he whispered, "As you wish," before turning, picking up his pants, and walking out of the room without looking back.

I watched his retreating form until it disappeared down the stairs, and then listened intently until I heard him close the front door behind him. Only then did I let myself relax. I lowered my gun, pointing it at the floor, and tried to force my pounding heart to slow down.

Shuffling towards my bed, I flicked the safety on my gun and rested it on the bedside table. I didn't exactly want to put the gun down—it made me feel safer holding it—but I wasn't stupid enough to sleep cuddling it to my chest like a stuffed animal. That would just be asking for a bullet in the face.

When I went to get in the bed though, I realized I hadn't changed the sheets, and they were covered in mine and Obito's cum, as well as our sweat and excess lube. I groaned. There was no way I was sleeping in the bed with dirty sheets. I was already having a hard time living with the fact that I'd slept with a fucking vampire; I didn't need evidence too.

Asking myself why life hated me so much, I ripped the damned sheets off the bed, silently battling with myself to ignore my protesting back. I tried to mentally soothe it with sweet promises of uninterrupted sleep once we were in the bed, but the pain was not so easily placated.

Putting sheets back _on_ the bed was even worse than taking them off. I managed to do it though, but it was pretty shoddily done. Nevertheless, I didn't care as I fiddled with the zipper of my pants. I'd already decided I might as well take a shower before bed. Wouldn't want to dirty up the clean sheets that I'd just painstakingly applied to the mattress...Plus, I was hoping maybe the hot water would alleviate some of my back's throbbing. At the very least it had to relax some of the muscles.

When I was finally in bed, my body slowly relaxing into the mattress, I laid there for what seemed like hours, unable to think about anything but Obito and what had just happened. I was actually surprisingly calm. I wasn't worried about Obito trying to kill me or seek some kind of revenge for hurting him. No, what I was thinking was much worse than that.

All I could think was I was never going to see him again.

My mind didn't seem to care that he was a vampire and therefore there was no way I could feel anything for him. It also didn't care if thinking about the man was slowly driving me insane.

I knew I should just forget about him. If I never saw him again, everything would go back to normal and it would be like it really had never happened. No one would ever know; I felt confident Obito wouldn't tell anyone. I could just pretend like it was all some crazy dream I had while I was high on painkillers or something…

But the whole forgetting him thing was proving to be exceptionally difficult.


	4. Chapter 4

**Ug...took me long enough to update, right?:\ I'm sorry...this chapter was difficult to write...and it's not very exciting either. Not much happens; it's mostly information...but the next chappie should be more interesting:3**

Love Bite ch. 4

I didn't wake until late the next afternoon. And probably I would have kept sleeping for hours longer if I had remembered to turn off my accursed phone.

"_What?_" I growled at the person on the other line. Rolling over to get the buzzing cell almost made my vision blur with pain. My back felt even more sensitive now. I knew it would; bad wounds always hurt more once you give them time to realize just how bad they are.

"What happened last night, Hatake?" Sarutobi asked, ignoring my impatience.

"Tell me you didn't call to ask such a stupid question—one that you could have found the answer to yourself!" I snapped at him.

"I want to hear it from you," he said simply.

I turned my head away from the phone for a moment to breathe and calm myself. Yelling at Sarutobi wasn't going to fix anything. It would just end up making things worse.

"It was nothing," I finally said. "A misunderstanding."

"Yamamoto is saying otherwise," he said, oddly not pushing the issue. "I'd believe you anyway, no matter what you told me. Yamamoto is a prick."

I was a little unsure how to react to that. Five seconds ago I'd been pissed he was gonna make me tell him what happened in excruciating detail, but now that he'd backed down, I was annoyed at the uselessness of the phone call. Today was not starting well.

"Yeah, he didn't seem to like me very much. But I guess it didn't help that I was being an ass."

"It wouldn't have mattered how polite you were. He hates you," Sarutobi said matter-of-factly.

"Why?" I asked.

"He doesn't like the idea of civilians having licenses to kill—considers you nothing more than a vigilante."

"One of those guys, huh?" I said absently. I didn't care what the man thought of me. I didn't know the guy, and even if I did, his opinion didn't matter. I had my own reasons for doing what I do, and that's no one's business but mine.

Changing the subject, Sarutobi said, "So I guess you haven't found anything yet?"

"I haven't even gotten out of the bed yet, or started in on the case files." I'd forgotten about them, actually, until just then, and I didn't know how I was going to get down the stairs, let alone how I was going to get the boxes of files inside the house from the car.

"Well…let me know if you find anything," he said, obviously annoyed that I hadn't done anything yet. I wasn't about to feel bad though. It'd barely been a day since I found out about the damned murders, and I was badly wounded. I probably wouldn't get anything from my contacts anyway.

"I will," I promised, and we ended the call.

I had to reason with myself for nearly an hour before I managed to work up the courage to sit up at the edge of my bed. I sat there for a while, steeling myself for standing and contemplating taking one of the Vicaden I'd gotten Tsunade to prescribe for me. Getting her to do it without coming into the hospital for a proper exam first hadn't been easy, so I only used them in emergencies. Getting her to renew the prescription was going to be a nightmare.

My first attempt at standing convinced me. I dug the little orange bottle out of the drawer and swallowed one of the white pills. I needed to eat something before it stared working. I was starving anyway.

Going down the stairs was slightly less excruciating than climbing up. By the time I'd finally completed my descent, I'd almost gotten used to the pain.

I padded into my unnecessarily large kitchen to peruse my fridge for something to eat. The gods must have seen fit to finally give me a break because there was half a pepperoni pizza and a six-pack of beer inside, just calling my name. Drinking right after taking a narcotic was probably a bad idea, but…oh well. It wasn't like I was going to get drunk.

I pulled a piece of the cold pizza out, but before I could take a bite, the doorbell rang.

I frowned in the direction of the foyer. Who the hell could that possibly be?

I thought of my gun upstairs and cursed myself for not bringing it down with me. I had other guns down here, but that one would have made me feel better.

I grabbed my derringer out of one of the many empty, useless drawers in the kitchen and made my way to the door as silently as possible. The bell rang again before I got there.

I looked out the peephole and relaxed. There was a little kid, no older than twelve, who was barely tall enough to see in the hole; and behind him was an older man—probably his father—and behind _him_, on the sidewalk, was a lawn mower. I tucked my gun away behind me in the waistband of my sweats, certain that the safety was on before doing so, and opened the door.

"Hey, Mister, can I mow your lawn?" the little boy asked—way too excited about what he was asking, I thought.

I glanced out at my pitiful-looking yard. It had been due for a cut _weeks_ ago, but I just hadn't been able to find the time to do it…

"How much?" I asked.

The boy held up both hands, fingers spread wide, "Ten dollars!"

Okay, he was younger than he looked.

I gave him a cheerful smile. "Sounds good, but I should probably make sure I have money for you."

I started to turn around, but stopped. I still had the gun in my pants. Instead, I just took a couple steps backwards to the antique bureau set against the wall beside the staircase where my wallet and keys rested when I wasn't using them.

I had a twenty in my wallet, but that was it—nothing smaller. That was okay though; I had an idea.

I grabbed my keys and went back to the door. "I've only got this twenty," I said to the boy, waving it around a little, "but if you mow the front and do me one other favor, it's yours."

"Sweet!" he said, excited.

The boy's father, on the other hand, looked suspicious. "What's the other favor?" he asked skeptically.

"I've got some boxes in the backseat of my car that I need brought inside. I'd do it myself, but I hurt my back."

"How'd you hurt your back, Mister?" the boy asked.

"I…tried to lift something too heavy for me," I lied. I didn't think the boy's father would appreciate me telling his son I hurt my back when I got attacked by a vampire. The naive, ignorant little kid probably would have thought it was cool. "So do you think you can help me?" I asked, changing the subject before he could ask more questions.

"Yeah!" the boy said, but I looked up at his father for confirmation.

He nodded—maybe a little reluctantly—and I handed him my keys with a grateful smile.

The father helped his son carry the boxes inside. They put them on the table in the dining room, cornered by the living room and kitchen. I thanked them both and the boy bounced off to start in on the grass. His father stayed behind. I watched him expectantly, waiting for whatever it was that kept him from going to supervise his son's grass-cutting.

He gave me the once-over, frowning slightly, and asked, "How'd you _really_ hurt your back?"

I knew what he wanted to hear. He was wondering if the injury was vampire-related and if said vampire would be paying me a visit at home any time soon. On the other hand, I didn't know _why_ he wanted to know, but I'd already decided he didn't _need_ to know. It pissed me off when people were nosy like that.

"I don't know what you mean. I already told your son what happened," I said innocently, a smile still plastered on my face.

His frown deepened. "Bullshit. It was some vampire piece of shit, wasn't it?"

I dropped the friendly neighbor act and gave him a blank, slightly frigid look. "Even if that's true, it's really none of your business, is it?"

The man was silent a moment, meeting my cold stare, before grunting. "I guess not." He turned to follow his son.

I handed him the twenty dollar bill as he passed me. "So you don't have to come back inside," I said.

He took the bill, harrumphed, and left.

I breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. Now I could eat and start in on the files in peace.

I settled in at the dining room table with my pizza, beer, and the gruesome police reports. I felt almost like a normal person sitting there with the warmth of the sun and sound of the boy's lawn mower floating through the windows—at least until I opened the first file from a random box and was faced with a high-definition photo of a dead woman's face.

I sighed, the illusion of domestic tranquility broken, took a bite of pizza, and just thanked the gods the murders weren't very messy, or I wouldn't have been able to eat and read simultaneously.

XXX

I kept reading until the words started blurring together and I called it quits for the day. There wasn't anything interesting in the files so far, and it was long past sundown by then, which meant all the thing that go bump in the night would be out playing.

I stood up and stretched, delighted that the Vicaden was still working and I could move virtually painlessly. I trudged upstairs, changed into something more presentable—faded blue jeans instead of sweat pants—threw on my leather jacket, and I was out the door.

If it was at all possible, I didn't want to be out all night. I hated sleeping all day and being up all night. It felt unnatural, and I always ended up exhausted, even though I slept just as many daylight hours as I did night. But I was human though, dammit; I wanted to enjoy the friggin' sun! So when I pulled out of my driveway, I tried to set myself a time limit. It was midnight; I wanted to be home before three in the morning, which meant I'd better hurry, because both of the people I wanted to talk to would be on the opposite side of town.

My first stop was the Alley Cat, a lesbian bar downtown. Technically it was a Gay/Lesbian bar, but more often than not, there were only women there. This was something I rather liked about the place. I only ever got hit on by the rare bisexual woman and could mostly drink in peace. If the place wasn't so far away, requiring a long trip on the freeway, I'd drink there rather than the dump I usually went to.

Though, the fact that the bartender was a vampire might have been enough to change my mind.

Kaede was one of the very few vampires that I didn't hate with a passion, mostly because she could be quite useful at times. She wasn't a very powerful vampire, nor was she interested in becoming one, which was why she stooped so low as to serve humans their choice of poison. There were lots of vampire-owned business all over the world, but usually the vampires hired humans to do all the real work.

Kaede wasn't like that though; she had a sense of responsibility, and also an ear for gossip. She was my connection for all things supernatural. If something was going on in their world, she would know about it, and she'd happily share it with me. Why? I didn't really know, but I also didn't really care.

I had to park nearly a mile away in a parking structure and walk all the way to the damned bar. By the time I'd finally gotten there, after wading through crowded streets and heavy traffic, I was already tense with irritation. I hated crowds, and loud noise, and never being able to find a decent parking lot downtown, and having to walk such a long distance, and being famous and recognizable, and the bloodhound-like paparazzi that had relentlessly followed me all the way to the mother-fucking, vampire-owned lesbian bar, asking me question after question when we both knew I wasn't going to answer, no matter how many times they asked, blinding me with the flash of all their damned cameras…and I'd forgotten to bring sunglasses…

I was this close to twitching and gnashing my teeth when I finally pushed the door of the bar in and stalked inside, trying to stay as far away from the media as possible. I sat at the end of the bar and Kaede placed two glasses of whiskey in front of me, obviously knowing I was on my way and would be in need of a drink as soon as possible.

"First one's on the house, Hatake," she greeted me, smirking at me from underneath her long bangs hiding her eyes.

I gave her a grateful smile and downed one of the drinks in a single go, leaving the second to suck on slowly.

It looked like I was going to be there a while. I couldn't start questioning Kaede about anything she'd heard on the rumor circuits about the murders until the media left—couldn't have them finding out anything about an ongoing investigation.

"Kakashi! Kakashi! What are doing in a gay bar?" one of the reporters asked, firing up everyone else to ask him the same question.

I just ignored them, hoping they'd eventually get bored and go away, but I knew that was probably unlikely. They were persistent little bastards…

"He's gay. Why else, idiot?" Kaede spoke up, pursing her lips at all the nosy paparazzi.

I cringed at her answer. It was pretty common knowledge that I was gay, but I'd never come out and said it publicly. I didn't think I needed to. Why should my sexual orientation be news? And whose business was it but mine and my lovers' anyway? I've never understood why people were so curious about the private lives of celebrities—people they've never met or probably ever would meet. It just seemed like a waste of time.

"Is that true, Kakashi?" the reporters started screaming at me, causing a ruckus and annoying the other bar patrons.

I glared at Kaede. How could she do this to me? She knew I liked to keep my private life private—just as it should be—and she knew I wanted these people gone, not riled up and begging for more scraps. She also couldn't have possibly liked having all the loud people, who weren't buying drinks, in her bar, bothering her paying customers.

"Why?" I asked.

"I've never seen you squirm like this before. It's amusing," she said, smiling close-lipped to hide her fangs.

I sighed and turned my attention to the crowd around me. "If I tell you, will you get the hell out and leave me alone?" I was answered with a few_ sure_'s and _yes_'s that I didn't really believe, but it was worth a shot to see if the gossip whores would keep to their word. "Alright. Yes, I'm gay," I said in an impatient tone. "Now get out."

Unfortunately I was right, and instead of doing as they'd promised and leaving, they all started talking at once and asking a million questions a minute, flipping a lid like they hadn't already known I slept with men.

I growled to myself and downed my second drink, which Kaede refilled immediately afterwards. I hunched myself over the glass and tried to drown out the sound of the questions with glorious thoughts of how I'd like to murder Kaede for starting this frenzy. I got really creative with it too; vampires could take a lot of damage before they'd actually die…

After a few moments of uninterrupted ruckus from the press, Kaede had finally had enough. She slammed an empty bucket that was for ice down on the counter behind the bar and yelled, "That's enough!" loud enough to be heard in Water Country.

Amazingly, the press actually shut up. They were all staring at her, shocked.

"If you're not going to buy some drinks, shut the hell up, and stop bothering my paying guests, then you can't get the hell out of my bar!" she all but screeched, growling at the crowd for good measure. Consequently, she also happened to show off her fangs in the process, and that started up some whispers in the crowd.

I felt like bashing my head in. Being found in a gay bar was one thing, but being found in a vampire-run gay bar was a totally different story. This was going to be all over the news in about half an hour: Hatake Kakashi, infamous vampire hunting—drinking with a vampire. Great.

"What the hell are you all staring at?" Kaede interrupted their new scoop, "Get out! All of you!"

Reluctantly, they left, not about to disobey a vampire; they wanted to live to tell the world I was consorting with the enemy.

"Fucking bottom-feeders…" she muttered when the last one slipped out. "You're welcome, by the way," she said to me.

I snorted at her. "If it wasn't for you, they wouldn't have gotten so excited in the first place. And do you realize what you've done? They're going to tell the whole world I was hanging out in a vampire bar. Thanks for shitting on my reputation; I appreciate it," I answered as sarcastically as possible.

She just chuckled. "Anytime, Hatake, anytime."

I rolled my eyes and sipped my drink.

"So I assume you're here for some information?" she said nonchalantly, slicing a lemon for some girl's drink.

"What do you know about the recent murders in town?"

"Nothing, actually—just that there's been quite a few lately, and your human police have no leads."

"That doesn't help," I said tonelessly.

"I have some suspicious though," she added, "But it's just speculation."

"Let's hear it. It's better than nothing."

"Well…the Uchihas and the Yondaime Hokage have been having quite a few disagreements lately…"

I held up a hand to stop her before she could go on. "Who are the Uchihas? And what's a Yondaime Hokage?" I asked.

Her knife stopped halfway through the gushing, yellow fruit and she stared at me through her bangs. Her mouth curved into a coy smile. "You don't know what a Yondaime is, Hatake? I thought you were supposed to be an expert on vampires?"

I returned her smile. "I never claimed I was an expert; that's the media's claim. I'm just good at killing you."

She laughed, high and slightly maniacal. "Precious," she said. She went back to her slicing. "A Kage is the name of a vampire leader of a city. Since this is the Land of Fire, they are called the Hokage. The Yondaime is the 4th Hokage. The Sandaime was before him, the Nidaime before him, and the Shodaime before _him_."

"So he's the most powerful vampire in Konoha?"

"Precisely. All vampires in Konoha owe him allegiance. To rebel means death, or at the very least, banishment."

I digested that silently. This Yondaime person must really be something. There were a lot of vampires in Konoha; if they were all tied to him that meant the man had to be powerful enough to juice hundreds of vampires into life every night. Jounin vampires could resurrect themselves, but chuunin and lower require a master to give them the power. I really hoped this Yondaime guy wasn't the murderer. It would suck to have to hunt something that powerful by myself, and I hated working with other people—they usually ended up as fodder.

"Okay," I said, moving on, "And the Uchihas; who are they?"

"They're a very powerful vampire clan. All have the same power—"

"Which is?" I prompted.

She pursed her lips at me for interrupting, but answered me anyway, "The Sharingan. It's an eye technique. If you ever meet an Uchiha, don't look them in the eyes." I gave her a look and she added, "You shouldn't look _any_ vampire in the eye, but especially not an Uchiha. You'll get a mind raping you couldn't even imagine. The things most vampires can do to humans, Uchihas can do to other vampires as well."

I frowned at that. The very idea that there was a whole race of vampires out there that could mind rape other vampires was more than a little unnerving. I had trouble enough with normal vampires that stuck to humans. These Uchihas sounded like they'd be ten times worse.

"Anyway," Kaede continued, "the Uchihas are pretty conservative. They don't like all these new proposed laws to make vampires legal citizens and shit. They think it degrades us as a species; brings us down to human level."

"What would they rather do? Enslave us?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yes," Kaede answered, dead serious.

My frown deepened. I was liking these Uchihas less and less… "Okay, so why are they going to war with the Yondaime?"

"The Yondaime is very human-sympathetic. He wants the laws to pass so humans and vampires can live peacefully together." I sniffed at that and Kaede smiled. "Pipe dreams, I know, but the Yondaime is an ambitious man. Very patient. Maybe it won't happen in your lifetime, but who knows…maybe in the next century?"

"There's no such thing as true peace. Even if the laws pass and most of the vampires actually adhere to the laws…there will still be troublemakers."

"Well that's good for you, isn't it? Without those troublemakers, you're out of a job, ne?" she asked, grinning.

I chuckled. "I guess so."

"Besides," she went on, "how boring would the world be without a little chaos?" She left me with that for a moment to make some drinks for a group of girls wearing just enough clothing not to get arrested for indecent exposure before coming back and continuing. "Anyway, so the Uchihas don't want the laws to pass, but the Yondaime does, and he's ordered them to obey the human laws, and the Uchihas don't like it. They've never really liked the Yondaime…or any of the Hokages really…probably because no one from their clan has ever been Hokage, and the Uchihas are proud bastards. Anyone who isn't one of them is a low-life piece of trash that crawled up out of a cesspool when they were born." She rolled her eyes at the idea.

"I take it most people don't like the Uchihas?"

She nodded. "Which is why they normally don't cause such a stir when they disagree with the Hokage, but this time is different, because there are other vampires who agree with their sentiment. Before they wouldn't have been able to oppose the Yondaime and his army, but now…they might have enough sympathizers to retaliate."

"But what does this have to do with the murders?" I asked, confused.

"The Yondaime has ordered we all obey the law. Killing humans is obviously against the law. Maybe the Uchihas or some of their cohorts are doing it to show opposition to the Hokage?"

"Hm…" I said, mulling it over. "I guess that could be it…but the murders are very clean; only one bite and the victims show no sign of struggle. If they were trying to make a statement, wouldn't it have been better to make it messy?"

Kaede shrugged. "Hell if I know. I imagine the Uchihas are very clean when it comes to their food, the high and mighty bastards…they could just be keeping it clean out of habit."

I nodded and we fell silent while I turned all the new information over in my head. It was an interesting theory, though I thought it was a bit unlikely.

Finally I stood up and left the money for my drinks on the bar, along with a handsome tip for the info Kaede had provided.

Outside, the reporters were waiting for me as they sipped coffee and chatted with each other around a white van parked on the street. Apparently they hadn't noticed me come out, so I took the opportunity to slip around to the rear of the bar and take the long way back to my car.

--

My second and last stop was Konoha University. KU was supposedly the best college in all of Fire Country, but it was also party central. There were always a couple dozen parties going on around campus and even more off of it. I knew this because I'd gone there myself for a few years to earn my degree in preternatural concepts. Every night I was invited to at least six parties or raves or _something_. I rarely ever went to them, but occasionally I would, for the same reason I go to clubs these days.

It was late, but I was sure the man I'd come to see would still be there. He was a workaholic, and yet he still always seemed to be behind on all his planning and grading and such. It never ceased to amaze me that he couldn't catch up. How hard could it be to manage a shop class? Even a college-level one? I suppose the man did lead a double life, but still.

Just as I suspected, Tenzou was still in the office adjoining his classroom that reeked of freshly cut wood and ozone. Wood shavings crunched under my feet as I made my way to the room and Tenzou looked up at me just as I stood in the doorway.

"Good evening, Kakashi. It's been a while."

"Indeed it has, my little pussycat," I said playfully; it was fun to tease Tenzou. He got flustered so easily.

"Kakashi! Don't say things like that! What if someone heard you?" he scolded me, glancing around at nonexistent eavesdroppers.

"They'd think I was your lover calling you a pet-name, Tenzou. Relax," I said, smiling at his blush. If someone were to think the nickname meant more than that—which it was—then he'd be in trouble. But it was doubtful unless they were already suspicious of the man, which was unlikely since Tenzou was probably the most careful wereleopard, or lycanthrope in general, I'd ever met. I'd never noticed any sign from him that he turned furry once a month. Except for maybe the fact that he was unreachable for that one night.

"Still," he complained, frowning at me in the most adorable way.

"It's okay," I persisted. "You and I both know there's no one around but us."

"Yeah, I guess…" he relented, just like he always did when we had this very same conversation almost every time we met. He turned back to the mass of papers on his desk and spoke as he sorted them. "I take it you're here about the murders, right?"

I grunted to the affirmative.

"I doubt I can add anything that Kaede hasn't already told you."

How had he known I'd already spoken with Kaede?

I groaned aloud when realization hit me. Those damned paparazzi must have spread the word already. The whole planet probably knew by now. I'd be getting phone calls from slightly more respectable media sources and people crowding outside my house, begging for interviews, for God only knows how long…There was very little I hated more than being in the news.

"What's wrong?" he asked, still not looking up.

"Fucking paparazzi…god-damned leeches…" I muttered.

He looked up at me then, frowning. "Paparazzi? You didn't bring paparazzi here, did you?" he asked, suddenly at full attention.

"No," I said, waving a hand to placate him. "I lost them before I left the Cat, but they must have already told the world that I hang out with vampires like they're my fucking buddies. Fuck…even _you_ heard it and you barely ever leave this god-damned campus…"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, still frowning. "I haven't heard anything about your hanging out with vampires, though I already knew you did—sometimes."

I glanced up at him. "Then how did you know I'd already been to Kaede's?"

"I can smell her on you," he said, tapping the side of his nose.

I refrained from glaring at the lycanthrope best I could. It always annoyed me when something preternatural used one of their powers on me, especially when it made me look like an idiot.

"Whatever…just tell me what you know," I said impatiently. It was already half past two and I clearly wasn't going to meet my three a.m. mark, and the Vicaden I'd taken earlier was starting to wear off, so I was already running on a short fuse. And Tenzou's innocent little show of power was only making things worse.

He turned back to his papers again. "Kaede tell you about the potential war?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know anything other than that, really. I can tell you the Uchihas leader though, and where you can find him, if that helps any."

"Tell me."

"His name's Uchiha Fugaku. He and some other members of his clan work at the Velvet Caress in the vampire district under the Yondaime's orders. They don't like it, but they don't have a choice. You can find him there most nights of the week."

"What does he look like?" I asked, already dreading going to the establishment. I'd heard of it; it was a damned strip club, and after tonight's little incident at the Alley Cat…the media were going to eat me alive for going there.

Tenzou abandoned his papers and opened a drawer in his desk to dig out his wallet from his suitcase full of yet more papers. Out of the wallet he pulled a business card and handed it to me. "These are his two sons. He looks more like the older one."

The card was extra thick and showed a picture of two pale, naked vampires, draped over each other in such a way that hide both of their naughty bits. Over top of them were neatly typed, white letters and numbers naming the club, it's address, and the phone numbers to reach it at. I gave the picture a distasteful look. If the two of them weren't so painfully sexy, people would complain about the blatant incest represented in the picture.

"Which one's the older one?" They both looked about the same age, though they were probably much older than I could ever guess by looking at a picture.

"The one with longer hair and scars on his face."

"Great. Thanks. Anything else?"

"Just be careful, Kakashi. The Uchihas may look delicate, but they're more ruthless than most vampires. They already hate you for being a hunter; if they find out what you're up to…"

"I'm always careful, Tenzou. Thanks for the help," I said, handing him back his card, vaguely wondering why he had it in the first place.

"No problem," he said, watching me leave.

--

By the time I got home it was well past four and I was exhausted. I hoped to God I didn't have anything to do tomorrow that I'd forgotten, because I planned on sleeping all day.

I needed to keep my strength up if I was going vampire hunting tomorrow night.


End file.
